


Blood, Water and Hock

by Hakluyt



Category: Killjoys (TV), She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Best Friends Squad Road Trip, Crossover, Drinking, F/F, Heist, Leith (Killjoys), Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Self-Worth Issues, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24575302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hakluyt/pseuds/Hakluyt
Summary: Team Awesome Force, premiere bounty hunters of the Quad system are fulfilling a warrant when Catra becomes an accidental casualty. The Best Friends Squad's post-war road trip has brought them to the Quad. They join forces for a new warrant to save many innocent lives, and give Catra a turn at being a hero to Adora. Post-season 5 She-Ra spoilers; rated T for language and violence
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Kudos: 6





	1. Team Awesome Force

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy the read; this is set after Season 5 of She-Ra but somewhere around season 1 or 2 of Killjoys  
> Crossposted on Fanfiction.net under the same username

Old Town was its usual grubby, cobbled-together self. The sky was as clear as it ever got on Westerly, not threatening a black rain, but the dust was being whipped up in the wind.

“Brr,” Johnny shivered as he and his brother D’Avin walked side by side through a crosswind coming up the street. “Trees, it’s cold.”

“Super observant, bro,” D’Avin said dryly.

“Hey, don’t ever say I never take you someplace nice.” Dutch, leading the way through Old Town’s warehouses and tenements, glanced over her shoulder at the Jaqobis brothers with a smirk. 

“Can we go there after we’re done?” Johnny asked.

“If there’s something to bring with us, but it’s up to you to tell me that,” Dutch pointed out. “Anything?”

“Somebody definitely trucked through here with a load of photonic crystals,” Johnny said, looking discretely down at his PDD.   
  


“Mhm,” Dutch said quietly, “And this is not where the Company stores crystals from the mines.”

“So,” D’Avin said, frowning as a small figure in a long coat and hood pushed past and headed up the street ahead of them, “We’re bringing in a smuggler in photonic crystals.”

“Yup.” Johnny said absently, “Miners sneak out the fragments and pass them along to the black market, skimmed off when they’re over-quota.”

“So the miners are sneaking out some extra stuff above what the Company pays them their dirt-shit wages for and we’re stopping them because…”

“Because Moray and his crew aren’t the rob-from-the-rich-to-give-to-the-poor types. He blackmails or extorts them, then hangs them out to dry if they get caught. They don’t see one single joy from it.” Dutch’s usual badass nonchalance gave way to a hard tone as she explained.

“Rob from the rich who stamp on the poor, to pay for your turn with the stamping,” Johnny summarized. “Charming.”

“Wait,” Dutch raised her hand, not changing her stride, but her demeanour turned alert. “Notice anything?”

After a long moment, Johnny said, “No surveillance cameras.”

“Off the grid,” D’Avin said quietly, his hand pulling back the front of his jacket to access his holster. “That’s an achievement in the Company town.”

“Okay,” Johnny said softly, “Lucy, you mapping this?”

“Yes, John,” said a sweetly modulated feminine voice into their earpieces, “There are two exits, the front door and the loading dock, plus a skylight.”

“He’s selling to every dirtbag pirate in the J,” Johnny pointed out, “What if he’s got clients in there?”

“Yeah, not to mention muscle?” D’Avin pointed out.

“Why I brought my own,” Dutch said, smiling sweetly at D’Avin. Then she looked at the building, “Clever,” she commented, “They’ve torn out all the handholds and escape ladders, anything that gives easy access to the roof.”

“Leaving us the choice of two guarded and possibly booby-trapped doors,” Johnny finished brightly. 

“So we don’t use the door,” Dutch said, “We make one special.” They rounded the corner into the side street. Their target building’s wall on this side was a blank slab of concrete with old crates piled up against it. Only someone watching closely would have noticed Johnny toss something from his pocket into one of the crates. The trio drifted down to the next corner, then suddenly pressed themselves against the wall and all of them pulled out the guns from their concealed holsters. 

“Okay,” Johnny said, rapidly one-handing the controls on his PDD, “Orientating the blast. Locked. And three, two, one.”

An earsplitting explosion blew chunks of concrete out of the wall. Dutch, D’Avin and John bolted back round the corner. Dutch leaped past the breach in the wall, D’Avin flanked the near side while Johnny stayed behind him. 

“Looks clear,” Dutch said, peering briefly into the hole.

“Flashbangs?” 

“Not unless we want to risk setting off any crystals in there,” Johnny said.

“And you tell us this  _ after  _ blowing a hole in…” D’Avin began. 

“Ah, screw it,” Dutch interrupted and stormed into the breach. Nonplussed, the Jaqobis brothers followed. 

It was basically a stockroom. One guard was already down. Two others broke out of cover and raised weapons. D’Av and Dutch shot down one each. They’d crossed the room in time for the stairwell door to burst open and a stocky man to come blundering out and right into D’Avin’s fist.

“Tory Moray,” Dutch said to the man as he sagged against the doorframe, “you’ve been locked and served.”

Johnny went around, pressing the unconscious goons’ fingerprints into his PDD to check for outstanding warrants against them. He took their guns and dismantled them, then started exploring the shelves. Moray’s front was a hardware store and his stockroom was more full of cases of nuts and bolts and doorknobs than stolen crystals. 

Eventually, he found a toolbox that turned out to have insulated lining to hold a row of photonic crystals the size of peach pits. 

“Got the crystals here,” he called to the team. “Guess he was selling things for carrying other things anyway, so he…”

Johnny saw the movement out of the corner of his eye just before the hooded figure who’d passed them in the street came leaping down from the upper shelf and planted both feet into his chest, slamming him into the floor. Johnny had a brief, blurry sense of a snarling face and a set of mismatched eyes under the hood before the figure jumped off him, snatching up the toolbox and bolting for the breach in the wall. 

  
Dutch and D’Avin came tearing round the corner. D’Avin saw his brother sprawled on the floor, then saw the small hooded thief running for the breach, “Stop!” He shouted. When they didn’t he fired a stun shot. 

In his alarm at his brother being hurt, he only winged the thief, but they dropped the toolbox and glowing crystals scattered onto the floor. And one of them exploded.

“Shit!” Dutch exclaimed, shielding her eyes as sparks and hot sand peppered her sleeve. There was a yelp of pain from across the room, and Dutch bolted toward the breach, picking up Johnny as he staggered to his feet.

“I thought Moray dealt with pirates, not street junkies,” Johnny wheezed, kneeling by the figure, now lying face down in the wreckage around the breach. “How’d they get in here without massive joy to spend on…what the shit?”

Dutch stooped and turned the figure over. It was a young woman. She had burns up one side of her face which looked painful but nothing that couldn’t be patched up, although her fur might be a while growing back.

Oh, and she had fur! A thin, sort of velvety coat so fine it just made her look like she had a striking, tawny complexion at a distance. For good measure, that velvety pelt continued onto the enormous pointed ears that sprang free when Dutch pushed back the hood to check the injuries. 

“Who the hells are you?” Dutch said softly.


	2. Rude Awakening

Catra’s consciousness came back slowly, so that she was hearing things around her before she knew she was. 

“This is so crazy,” a voice was saying, “This isn’t a costume, Dutch. In this case, appearances are literally bone deep!”

“Johnny, how is that possible? Mutation? Some kind of heavy genetic mods?”

“Lucy?”

“There are no genetic markers indicating an artificial genome.”

“It also explains how she got in before us. Look at those claws: she climbed the building and dropped in through the skylight!”

“Okay, so, she’s a visitor from a kiddie show. How are her injuries?”

“Meds are working on the burns and I’ve set the fractured radius and started regen. It’ll take a little while, but it looks like she’ll be fine.”

Catra felt a sudden vibration, like an earthquake, that jolted her out of passive listening. Her eyes flew open. She was lying on a gurney or medical table, surrounded by screens, some of them showing a display of what looked alarmingly like her own skeleton. 

With a yell of horror, she was suddenly up, crouched defensively on the tabletop. Two people - the owners of two of the voices she’d been hearing, jumped back. One, the man, Johnny, was short and wiry with eyes even bluer than Catra’s right eye. The other, the woman, Dutch, she assumed, was a little taller, with long black hair and dusky skin. One look at her told Catra she was the most dangerous of the two. But both of them backed off and raised their hands, “Whoa,” Johnny cried. “Whoa, it’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you!”

“Really?” Catra snarled, “You shot me, blew me up and then kidnapped me!”

“Okay, those are all valid points,” Johnny admitted. 

“You got caught up in our warrant, it was all a big misunderstanding,” Dutch said. “We needed to get you out of there.”

“Why?”

“Because our warrant is all,” Dutch said, “Which means we’re not into collateral damage.”

“Where are the crystals?” Catra asked, wincing as the pain in her face and arm started to register. “They’re all I came here for, so where…”

“Okay, dropped the crystals and Moray’s crew off,” said a new voice. Catra’s head whipped round to see a tall, burly fellow coming up a loading ramp. “How’s the walking fetish outfit doing?” Then he froze, eyes as blue as Johnny’s staring stricken at the very awake Catra.

Fury rose up in Catra, and she backflipped off the examination table, striking the wall behind her feet first, then springing clear over the first two’s heads. She tumbled over and came down on the big man’s shoulders, bearing him down to his knees. Before he could react, she had her right hand claws on his throat, “I’m going to give you one chance to rephrase that,” she growled into his ear. 

“Hey!” Dutch snapped, “Chill the hells out.” 

“D’Avin,” Johnny said, “Apologize!”

“Johnny,” D’Avin said tensely, “I don’t think…”

“Just do it, D’Avin,” Dutch added, looking fearfully at where Catra’s claws were.

“Okay, fine,” D’Avin grated, “I’m sorry for the fetish comment.”

“I am who I am,” Catra said, heart pounding, “I don’t take….aah!”

Suddenly the acrobatics caught up with her. The skin on the left side of her face and neck were on fire, and an extremely painful tremor started in her left arm, currently holding D’Avin’s wrist behind his head.”

“Okay, we get you’re freaked out,” said Johnny, “But we’re honestly here to help. We’re maybe not the most diplomatic about it is all. Well,” he added, his blue eyes sparking for a moment, “D’Av isn’t.”

Catra took that in, then looked hard at Dutch. She looked just as earnest, but she also looked scared for D’Avin. Between that and the pain, Catra started to calm down. She clearly cared about him, and being scared for someone you cared about was something Catra could understand. She let D’Avin go and jumped lightly off his back. She stumbled, cradling her arm.

“Okay,” Dutch said, letting out a breath, “Now that we’re all friends, maybe let’s have a talk.”


	3. Hey, Adora

Talking, for Dutch and the brothers Jaqobis, meant also drinking. They brought Catra up to the dining room and D’Avin - wanting to remain out of arm’s reach of Catra for a while - went to the cabinets for glasses and a bottle of hock. 

“So, Catra was it?” Dutch said, taking a chair, spinning it round and straddling it. “What’s a cat like you doing on a moon like Westerly?”

Catra cocked a suspicious eyebrow at the woman across from her, but there was no sign of teasing or sarcasm in her voice, so she answered directly. “My...friends and I, our ship was exploring this place - the Quad, it’s called, right?” Nods all round, and she went on, “But our fuel was running low. We figured those photon crystal things would be perfect, but all the suppliers had crazy high prices so I said I’d try and find out if we could get some on the down-low.” She snorted. “So much for that plan.”

“I’m sorry,” Johnny said quietly, “But the guy who was dealing in those crystals was a bad piece of shit. We had a warrant to take him down and seize his loot.”

“You bounty hunters or something?” Catra asked.

“Or something,” Dutch said, smirking, then smiling as she accepted a glass from D’Avin. “We’re called Killjoys. We take warrants to catch people, steal things, get them someplace safely, or some combination of those.” She took a gulp of the cherry-red liquid in the glass, then said, “You?”

“I’m from a long way away,” Catra said dryly.

“Yeah,” D’Avin said, sitting at one end of the table and pushing a glass across to her, “We noticed.”

Catra smirked at him, flirted her tail, and then turned back to Dutch, “I’m from a planet called Etheria. It’s...actually I don’t really know where it is. Steering the ship isn’t my job. I’m just there to help where I can.”

“What’s your ship?” Johnny asked.

“It’s - she’s - called Darla,” Catra said, feeling oddly embarrassed.

“You hear that, Lucy?” Johnny said, looking up into empty air, “Maybe a distant relative.”

“You’re my only family, Johnny,” said a metallic but sweet female voice. Catra jumped.

“What was that?”

“Lucy’s our ship,” Dutch said, “Doesn’t Darla have an AI?”

“Sort of,” Catra said, looking around the room, then, half-speaking to herself, added, “I don’t think even Entrapta could give Darla that much personality.”

“No ship has as much personality as Lucy, trust me,” D’Avin said.

“I take that as a compliment,” Lucy said. 

Catra snorted a laugh then winced. 

“Drink up,” Johnny said, “It’ll take the edge off the pain.”

Catra picked up the glass, sniffed the drink carefully, then coughed a little. It smelled overpoweringly of spices and alcohol. But with the promise of pain relief, she took a swallow. Once she was sure her mouth and throat weren’t literally on fire, she gasped out a breath and said, “Okay, wow.”

“I’m starting to think we should’ve carded you before giving you that,” Dutch chuckled good-naturedly. 

“Yeah,” Catra rasped. She cleared her throat and said, “Hey, look, I’m sorry I, uh, attacked you guys. I figured you were just thieves stealing from thieves, so I decided I’d…”

“Thieve from thieving thief-thievers?” Johnny said cheerfully.

“Exactly,” Catra said, smiling. “I - we - my friends and I have seen a lot, and I can get pretty defensive when I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Oh, we can relate,” D’Avin said, increasingly amiable to Catra. 

“I still need those crystals,” Catra said, back on mission. “The others were looking for other sources but most of them are claimed already. Is there any way you can help me get some?”

The three killjoys exchanged looks, “We can look into it,” Dutch said, “I can’t promise anything, but…”

The deck suddenly yawed violently, making glasses jump and hock to slosh into the table.

“Lucy?” Dutch asked, on her feet even faster than Catra.

“I’m sorry, Dutch,” Lucy said, calm amid the commotion, “Sensors indicate we hit something, but I am not registering an external source.”

“So what,” D’Avin said, “We crashed into nothing?”

“Unknown,” Lucy replied, a little primly, “But something is overriding the airlock.”

“Let’s go,” Dutch snapped, “Catra stay here.”

“I can help,” Catra said, “I…” Then her eyes widened. “Oh no, wait!”

But the killjoy trio had gotten well ahead of her. She took off in pursuit, finding her way back to the big main hold, where Dutch, Johnny and D’Avin were taking up positions around the airlock booth in the corner, all of them with very, very big guns.

“Wait,” Catra cried, but at that moment, the airlock’s doors jumped open. D’Avin rose to take a shot…

And an arrow whizzed through the door, hitting him square in the chest. It burst with a sound like an airbag going off, and D’Avin was suddenly rolling across the floor, his whole body save his head wrapped in something that looked like a rolled-up mattress.

And then Adora came charging through the door, blonde ponytail flying behind her, blue eyes blazing, swinging her sword in a wide arc with a yell of angelic fury. The front half of Dutch’s gun fell away, sliced cleanly through. But without a pause, Dutch took the other half and hit Adora in the head with it. 

It would almost have been funny if it weren’t for all the deadly weapons involved. Adora rolled with the strike though, and came back with a deflect-and-jab at Dutch. Dutch blocked the blow just short of her solar plexus and kneed Adora in the gut, then head-butted her. Except that Adora twisted aside before Dutch’s forehead could break her nose, hooked her arm over Dutch’s neck and flipped her over, slamming her back into the floor. 

“Dutch!” Johnny jumped to Dutch’s defense, but only got halfway before Bow came charging through the airlock like a bronze and umber battering ram and tackled him. A rolling-on-the-floor punch-up ensued, but Catra was concentrating on Dutch and Adora. Dutch flipped herself back onto her feet, and spun into a roundhouse back kick toward Adora’s head.

Catra jumped between them, blocked the kick and spun to face Adora, arms spread, “Adora wait! Stop!”

“Catra!” Adora gasped, a noticeable bruise already blooming on her jaw. “Are you…” Then her eyes registered the burns on Catra’s face and neck and horror mixed on her face with vengeful rage. “What have they done to you?”

“No, Adora,” Catra said, “It wasn’t them!” She paused, blinked, then added, “Well, actually, it was, come to think of it. But it’s fine, they’re friends! They might even be able to help.”

“Wait,” Johnny said, looking up from the headlock he was holding a struggling Bow in, “You mean these are the friends you were telling us about?”

“Most of them,” Catra said, looking around. A final figure emerged through the airlock: a creature in the form of a large cat that appeared to be made out of moonlight and shadows.

“I guess we should have taken it as a clue that Melog was so calm,” Bow croaked from the crook of Johnny’s arm. Johnny appeared to remember himself and let him go. Bow gasped and staggered to his feet.

Catra looked back at Adora, taking in her half-disintegrated ponytail, her characteristic red jacket heaving with her breath, and her wide blue eyes. “Hey Adora,” she said weakly. 

And then, to the bemusement of the onlookers, they slammed into each other with an energetic kiss. 

“I was supposed to be the one saving the day,” Catra said apologetically when they broke apart. 

“It’s okay,” Adora said, her voice shaking with relief. “The important thing is we found you.”

Catra pulled herself together and stepped back, “Adora, Bow, Melog,” she laid a hand on the shadow-beast’s head, “This is Dutch, that’s Johnny and the blanket roll over there is D’Avin. Oh, and the ship’s name is Lucy.” 

“Hello,” Lucy said politely.

“Nice to meet you and kick your arse,” Dutch said, nodding amiably.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Adora said after a moment, “If anything, I kicked your, um, butt!”

“Oh really?” Dutch said, her smirk making a comeback. 

“Look,” Catra said, kneeling to ruffle Melog’s ears, “I didn’t get the crystals,” she gestured to her burns, “But we were just discussing how to maybe get some. I’m guessing you didn’t find any?”

“None that weren’t already taken,” Bow said, a little hoarse.

“Well, if you kids wouldn’t mind disconnecting your ship from mine,” Dutch said pointedly, “Maybe we can talk about that.”

“Oh,” Adora said, looking guiltily at the airlock. “Sure, we can do that, no problem!”

“Great,” said a voice from the futon-like mass in the corner, “So if we’re all friends again, can somebody get me out of this please?”


	4. Supply and Demand

This time there were seven of them at the table in Lucy’s common area. Well, five. Bow, Adora and Catra, Dutch and D’Avin were all sitting at the table with glasses of hock. There was a little nook on one side of the room with a sofa and soft chairs, and Melog was stretched out on the sofa with Johnny crouched next to them, staring at the shadow-panther with shameless fascination. 

Catra had to smile at Melog’s luxuriating like that. Her emotional link with Melog sometimes made it hard for her to tell if they were relaxing because she was feeling okay, or if she was feeling okay because Melog was relaxed. She tended to suspect the first one, since she was also holding hands with Adora under the table. 

“We’re heading for Leith next,” Dutch was explaining, “The crystals are mined on Westerly but frankly there’s a lot more money circulating on Leith, more of a chance to get something without having to work in a mine or,” she grinned at Catra, “steal things.”

“You said,” Bow began, “that you take warrants, bounties. You get paid for them, right?”

“Obviously,” D’Avin began.

Bow, excitement growing, said, “Well, maybe we could hunt some bad guys and get the bounty!”

“Sorry,” Dutch said, “You have to be a licensed killjoy for that. Maybe you can get a discrete export job?”

“Worked for Dutch and me,” Johnny said, “Holy shit, this...animal? Person? Is like...living dark matter.”

Melog opened one eye, sniffed, and then closed it again.

“They’re magic,” Catra said complacently. 

“Magic’s just science you haven’t done yet,” Johnny grinned.

Bow’s eyes lit up at this sentiment. Adora took a mouthful of hock. Her eyes bugged out for a moment before she swallowed and let out a wheezing sound. Catra grinned and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. 

“There’s no ship anything like ours around here,’ Adora said after clearing her throat. “So it would definitely be a lot easier to get...well, anywhere in the Quad with your - uh, I mean, you, Lucy.”

“I like these ones, Johnny,” Lucy said.

“This is so cool,” Bow said, looking around much as Catra had done. “Entrapta’s going to be so jealous!”

“Aw, she’d never look at another ship besides Darla,” Adora said.

“I appreciate that. I am also committed,” Lucy put in kindly.

“And you say that kitty over there,” Dutch nodded over toward Melog, “Can keep your ship invisible?”

“Yeah,” Catra said, looking regretful. “They’ll have to stay on Darla for that, but they can do it.”

Adora squeezed her hand this time. 

“Thank you for helping us,” Adora said. “And for helping Catra.”

“After they blew me up,” Catra said dryly. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Dutch said easily. “But on the bright side, after Westerly, you’ll find Leith a nice little vacation.”


	5. My Hero

Adora, Bow, Catra and Melog went back aboard Darla for the overnight cruise to Leith. The crystalline and metal First Ones relic ship was a little bigger than Lucy, but much more utilitarian. Bow had waxed eloquent about homey touches they could add to Darla now that she was technologically up to code, although Catra had pointed out that they had no money to furnish the ship before returning to Etheria, which took the wind out of his sails a little. 

Catra and Adora shared a double-sized cot in one of the rooms below decks. None of them was sure which rooms on the ancient vessel were actually meant to be quarters, but they’d put beds in the rooms nearest the bathroom. During this first run of the Best Friends Squad Road Trip, Bow had been making a list of refits for Entrapta to look into: expanding the bathroom or adding more of them was top of the list, in addition to improving the furnishings. 

“What a pair we are,” Catra said as she and Adora were getting into bed. 

“What do you mean?” Adora asked tiredly.

“Between the two of us, we have a total of one whole, intact face.”

Adora looked momentarily stricken, snorted with laughter, then winced and rubbed at the bruise on her jaw. “I really shouldn’t complain. Those burns look so painful.”

Catra grimaced. She’d seen herself in the mirror when they got back aboard. She looked like she had slices of undercooked meat pasted to her cheek and her neck. “Just kind of raw. Not as bad as my arm, but whatever they gave me is already making that a lot better.”

“You sure you’re not just numb from that stuff they gave us to drink?”

Catra snorted, “Yeah maybe. I’m still buzzing a little.”

“Same,” Adora said, then, so to speak, she sobered. “I’m sorry about what happened. I should never have…”

“Hey,” Catra said, a little sharply, “It wasn’t your fault. I chose to take the risk, and it didn’t pay off. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me, for messing it up.”

Adora ran her fingertips gently down Catra’s face, careful to avoid the burns. “You don’t need to be…”

“I know, I know,” Catra sighed. It could be almost comedic the way their wish to do for each other grated up against their urge to protect each other. “I just...wanted to be your hero for a change, I guess?”

Adora got extra-gooey-eyed at that, “I know. You will. In the meantime,” she smiled and rolled over onto her other side, turning her back to Catra. 

Catra snuggled up close to her and wrapped her arm around Adora’s waist, resting her face against Adora’s very muscular shoulder. Then she moved back a little and rearranged Adora’s hair out of her face. “I hate that you’re taller than me.”


	6. Tea and Empathy

“Approaching Leith.”

“The bazaar might have what you need,” Dutch told Adora, Bow and Catra as they disembarked from Lucy. “But we have a delivery to make at the monastery first.”

Bow whistled as they emerged onto the landing platform jutting high over the forest-fringed canyon. A bell tolled in the domed chapel on the other side of the gorge. 

The monks and nuns in their yellow hoods and capes didn’t seem surprised to see them, and a few even paused to greet the killjoys. Of course, Catra had put her hood back on to avoid awkward questions. 

They entered a complex of passageways. They didn’t have roofs; instead the walls were holding up horizontal trellises wound around with vines. Planters with ferns and small trees hung off the walls or stood in corners alongside columns of inscribed glyphs

“Wow, it’s so green,” Bow said admiringly. “We have  _ got  _ to bring Perfuma here at some point. Plants, incense, meditating, soothing chimes…”

They emerged into a large courtyard dominated by a huge, gnarly old tree. Monks and nuns were seated in concentric circles around it, chanting and waving the aforementioned incense. One of the monks was sitting as they were, but under the tree, facing out, with two others attending him. The Squad and the killjoys stood to the side, with a combination of respect and curiosity.

“Bow’s right,” Adora said, “It is a little like the group meditations at Plumeria…”

Adora trailed off as the two attendants started cranking some kind of winches. For a second the Squad couldn’t tell what they were looking at as the monk started to lift off the ground. Then they registered the cables taking his weight, and the metal hooks through the skin over his collarbones, and the way the skin stretched as he was lifted off the ground. 

“This is  _ nothing  _ like Plumeria,” Bow squeaked. 

Catra started forward as if to intervene. Adora put a bracing hand on her shoulder, looking at her with concern. Admittedly Adora was shocked as well, but Catra hadn’t registered right away that the monk’s meditation posture never changed, and his face remained perfectly serene.

“It’s okay,” Johnny said quietly, looking around at them. “I know it’s a little much at first, but this is part of their traditions. They’re all in it by choice.” 

“Uh,” Catra said, “Is...is there somewhere we can go?”

“Excuse me, Uncle,” Dutch said, soliciting the attention of a passing monk, “We’re here to see Alvis,” she nodded to the suspended monk, “but he’s obviously a little busy. Maybe there’s someplace we could sit down while we wait?”

“Of course,” the monk said softly, and led them to a sort of sitting room off the courtyard with wicker window shutters and matching chairs. 

“Are you okay?” Dutch asked, frowning at Catra.

“I’m fine,” she said, stiffly. Then paused and said, more politely, “Yeah, I’ve just had some bad experiences with being...restrained or puppeted around like that. And the idea of volunteering for it...” She shuddered.

Dutch gave Catra and Adora both a searching look, but just nodded and didn’t press the matter.

A little while later, the door opened and Alvis came in. Close up and not suspended from hooks, he still had presence. He wasn’t a big man, his hair in cornrow braids visible under his hood. There was bruising on his collarbone but nothing else. They had good medical technology here. 

“I’m glad you were able to wait,” he said softly, addressing himself to Dutch. 

“We’ve always got time for you, Alvis,” Dutch said.

“I heard you were bringing friends to visit,” Alvis said, sitting down in a chair that placed him more or less equidistant across from the killjoys and the Squad. “Alvis Akari. Welcome.”

“Thanks for having us,” Bow stammered, “It’s so nice to see your monastery, your gardens, to watch you get hung up from hooks through your skin…” His voice trailed off into a squeak.

Alvis smiled. It was gentle but lacked any apology. “You know, it’s pretty warm around here for a heavy coat,” he said to Catra.

“I’m good,” Catra said, arms folded.

“As you wish,” Alvis said, “But as I understand it, cats and foxes use those big ears for heat radiators. I thought that might be how it worked for yours? Is it uncomfortable to cover them?”

Catra, Adora and Bow boggled at the monk for a moment. But ultimately Catra sighed and shrugged off her coat, shaking out her ears. 

“How did you…” Adora began.

“You covered your ears,” Alvis said, “But I could see your tail bristling out in the courtyard around your ankles. And it’d be hard not to notice your eyes.”

“Cute, isn’t she?” Bow said teasingly.

Catra folded her arms again and looked away with a grumble. Adora put a hand on Catra’s arm, looking proud as a peacock. 

“Thank you for having us,” Adora said with slightly frantic brightness, “I’m Adora, this is Bow, and Catra.”

Alvis beamed. Catra’s tail started to bristle again, “You think my name’s funny?”

“I was thinking it’s a pleasure to meet people with such drive and compassion,” Alvis said. “You were all ready to come to the rescue of someone suffering.” He paused. “Also, your name  _ is  _ kind of darling.”

“Why were you…” Adora asked shyly, but she gestured in the direction of the courtyard. 

“The Scarback way,” Alvis explained, “We suffer in the name of those who have already suffered enough. Like the people of Westerly.”

“Does that help?” Catra asked acidly.

  
Alvis didn’t appear offended, “It helps people to know there’s someone who’s willing to take their pain. And we offer confessional, alms, that sort of thing.”

Another monk came in with a large tray with cups, a teapot and a plate of cookies.

“Care to share some tea?”

“Oh good,” Bow said brightly, “I was starting to wonder if anyone drank  _ non _ -alcoholic drinks in this system.”

Johnny snorted with laughter as Alvis poured tea for everyone.

“I’m afraid I’m getting cynical,” Dutch said softly. “Because I’m wondering if this hospitality is part of asking us for something.”

“I always want to break bread with you and yours, Dutch,” Alvis said. “But I’m afraid that this time you’re correct.”

“You need something?” D’Avin asked.

“To help Westerly,” Alvis said. “As always. The Scarbacks have a warrant for you.”   
  


“The Scarbacks are taking out a warrant?” Johnny looked astonished.

“Old Town’s in a bad way. Worse than usual. They’re running out of water.” 

“Running out of water?” Adora asked. “Why?”

Alvis appeared to remember the presence of outsiders and said, “The Company who run the Quad strip-mined Westerly. The groundwater is polluted and needs to be filtered. But the reclamation system’s breaking down and the Company is saying that it’s more cost-effective to just import water.”

“That’s bullshit,” Johnny said at once, “It’s cost effective for the company on Qresh maybe, but…”   
  


“But,” Dutch picked up the thread, her eyes going hard with anger, “Westerlyns will be screwed for every drop of water, be forced even further into debt!”

“Over water?” Adora’s voice was harsh with outrage. “That’s horrible!”

“That’s the company,” said Alvis, “Which is why we need another way.”

“You want us to, what,” D’Avin said, “Steal you an iceberg?”

Alvis smirked and shook his head, “The Scarbacks have been trying to negotiate to acquire an integrated purification system for Old Town.”

“A whatnow?” Adora asked blankly.

“We had them in the army,” D’Avin said, sounding impressed. “They’re modular water treatment plants. You can run toxic sewage through them and get clean water out the other side!”

“A lot of it,” Alvis nodded. “We get it to Old Town, the people there can process enough clean water for the whole moon to cook with and drink.” 

“So why do you suddenly need killjoys to get it?”

“Frankly,” Alvis said, “We’ve been outbid and cheated. We paid a deposit up front, and then the seller cancelled the deal on us. The seller’s a heavy black market boss, he’s bringing the system to Utopia Station for the handover. We’d like it intercepted.”

“Who’s the buyer?” Johnny asked.

“Don’t know,” Alvis admitted.

“We can’t storm Utopia,” Dutch said.

“What’s Utopia?” Adora asked.

“It’s a commerce station,” Johnny said, “Anything and everything for sale, no matter how illegal or freaky.”

“Whoah,” Bow said, wide-eyed. “Can we...go there? It sounds kind of amazing!”

“It’s wide open once you get into the station but the security getting in and out is rock solid,” Johnny said. “We’d have to intercept it inbound or outbound.”

“It’s already there,” Alvis said.

“And if we don’t know who’s picking up, then we can’t grab it,” Johnny sighed.

“Well, we have to do something,” Adora exclaimed. “If those people are going to go into debt for water? We can’t let that happen!”

“Whoah, hold on there Countess Crusader,” Dutch said. “Nobody said  _ you  _ had to do anything.”

“Get used to it,” Catra said dryly, “it’s just what she does.” But an observant eye would have seen the way Catra’s tail slid up and wrapped around Adora’s forearm.

“Stealing a piece of life-saving tech from evildoers?” Bow’s eyes were alight, “That sounds so awesome!”

“And if you get paid,” Catra said, “and we help…”

“We can buy fuel,” Adora said, eyes widening with realization.

“Maybe they can subcontract?” D’Avin suggested.

Dutch looked skeptical, “Maybe. The RAC could still view it as a violation of license.”

“I was still an illegal when we did the Sugar Point job,” D’Avin pointed out.

“It doesn’t matter about the money,” Adora insisted. “We still want to help!”

“Somebody’s got a hero complex,” Johnny said, with more approval than anything else.

“Besides,” Bow said, “You said you couldn’t get in and out with your ship, and ours can make itself invisible!”

“ _ Melog _ can make it invisible,” Catra said pointedly. “Look, this dealer - he deals in a lot of valuable stuff?”

“That’s right,” Alvis said.

“So, what if we grab some other stuff on the way out the door? Use that to pay for fuel crystals?”

“And I thought Dutch was the only one who could be heroic and mercenary at the same time,” Alvis said, grinning. “You discern a protege, Dutch?”

“I discern a trio of barely-more-than-teenagers,” she looked accusingly at her team, “But they do have the invisible ship.”

“And they know what it’s like for the dispossessed to need heroes.”

“Why do you say that?” Catra said, her defensive side coming out.

“We’ve each had one cookie from the tea service,” Alvis said, “You two,” he nodded to Catra and Adora, “Have each had three. And you never put down your teacups, like you expect them to be stolen.”

“You don’t know us,” Catra said, leaning forward, almost blocking Adora, as if expecting to take a shot for her. Adora put an anxious hand over Catra’s clenched fist.

“I know people who have known want and trauma when I see them. And I know people who made it through a lot of shit and came out wanting to be heroes.” He might have been speaking in general terms, but he looked straight at Catra. She stared back for a long moment, then subsided.

“Melog could get us in and out with invisibility,” Adora said, “I’m guessing this machine is pretty big?”

“About the same as this room,” Alvis said.

“So you need all the help you can get just moving it around,” Adora said, a cocky air in her manner now. “And we can help with that.” Bow flexed one of his, admittedly impressive, biceps.

Catra, “Okay let’s do it.”

Dutch gave Alvis a pained look, but sighed. “Shit. Okay, we’re going to heist high school.”

“Hey,” Catra said, “We’re not that much younger than you!”

“Your girlfriend doesn’t even know how to swear,” Dutch retorted.

  
“That’s not true,” Adora said, affronted. “I can swear whenever I want. Darn - damn - it!”

Dutch groaned. D’Avin and Bow cringed. Catra and Johnny were doing their utmost not to laugh. Alvis grinned and said, “Praise the trees.”


	7. Memories

Despite the plan to use Darla for the job, Dutch insisted that they travel on Lucy to Utopia to, as she put it, case the joint. 

Adora and Catra were recovering some of their kit from Darla before transferring over. 

“This is so cool,” Adora said, “Going out on swashbuckling adventures in space? Seahawk is going to be green with envy when we get back to Etheria.”

“Yeah,” Catra said, “Pretty classic.”

Catra felt a gentle hand on her shoulder but it still made her jump. 

“Sorry,” Adora said, “I should know better.”

“It’s okay,” Catra sighed, “I’m just having a rough day. Having to get separated from Melog for two days,” she ruffled the shadow-panther’s ears. And…”

“And the monks? That...ritual,” Adora sounded a little queasy.

“It’s so stupid,” Catra sighed. “It wasn’t anything like what happened with Horde Prime or Shadow Weaver.”

“Not exactly,” Adora said thoughtfully, “but restraint, immobilization. It still adds up.”

“I’m just frustrated that it still sets me off, even when it’s barely the same.”

Adora gave Catra the kind of look that turned Catra to mush inside. “Oh, Catra.” She laid a hand on the unburned side of Catra’s face. “I know it’s hard, but you’re so brave. Nobody would blame you for just running away from something like that. But you were all ready to go save Alvis then!”

Catra leaned into Adora’s hand and sighed. “I wish I didn’t make you carry this with me all the time, that’s all” she said with a sad smile.

“No place I’d rather be,” Adora said steadfastly. She frowned thoughtfully, then said, “Hey, this is just the recon, right? Melog will need to cloak Darla for the actual operation, but can’t they come along for this part?”

Catra’s eyes brightened, “Yeah! You’re right. Hey Melog, how small can you get? Small enough to hide in my pocket maybe?”

The shadow panther cocked their head at them, stood up, and then began to shrink rapidly. The smallest they usually went was roughly housecat-sized. This time, they went smaller than ever, so that Catra stopped and scooped the shadowy entity up in her hands.

Finally they seemed to stop shrinking, changing shape. Their snout became longer and sharper, their ears rounder, their tail thinner. Finally, Melog settled in the form of a mouse, sat up on their haunches and wiggled their nose at Catra.

Against the background of Adora laughing hysterically, Catra glared down at her magical companion. “Seriously?”


	8. Utopia

“Arriving at Utopia.”

Utopia station never slept. The whole complex was a perpetual combined rave, orgy, drug deal and black market.

“Whoah,” Bow gasped as they came down a bustling passageway, “It’s like a city, but in 3-D! Look, the sky is  _ just more city _ !”

Johnny was walking just behind Bow. He shook his head at Bow’s wonder, but he was grinning. He and D’Avin were bringing up the rear while Dutch led. Given the range of mods and fashions on display, Catra didn’t have to worry about disguising her tail or ears, so she was in her preferred vest, leggings and fingerless gloves. As the succession of bizarre outfits and outrageous body mods grew more and more outlandish, Adora was pleased to notice Catra was starting to...swagger? 

They emerged into a ‘street’ flanked by bars and clubs. A platform in the middle of the street was occupied by a series of people dancing in wild ecstasy and very little clothing. 

“Okay,” Dutch said, “Alvis said they were supposed to do this deal with the smugglers at the drug den around the corner, but the actual machine’s got to be in a warehouse.”

“So we need a directory of the warehouse district,” Johnny said, “Try to find out which one belongs to our guy. I can get into the station mainframe.”   
  
“Oh, can I help?” Bow asked.

“Sure,” Johnny said amiably. “I can figure out who owns what if you can match that to the station maps?”

Bow beamed. 

“D’Avin,” Dutch went on, “You and me, we cover the dock bars, pick up the gossip. Adora?”

Dutch turned to see Adora, arm-in-arm with Catra, but staring up at the dancers with a combination of horror and awe, plus a face as red as her jacket. Catra looked sidelong at her beloved with a wicked grin. “Hey, Adora?”

“Huh? Yes! What do we do?” Adora asked, sounding flustered.

Dutch hesitated just long enough for Catra to start feeling annoyed. “There are rooftop clubs overlooking the warehouse district. We haven’t got a lot of time, so while John and Bow are looking for the target, you two scope out places your ship can touch down. Once we have a confirmed location we can pick the best one.”

“Got it,” Catra said.

“Damn straight,” Adora said with forced cheer, “We’ll damn shootin’ find them!”

“Stop that,” Dutch grumbled.

“Yeah, Adora,” Catra said, “Please stop.”

Dutch gave directions and they found their way to one of the rooftop dancefloors. When Dutch had said it overlooked the warehouse district, she wasn’t joking. Utopia was basically built on the interior of a giant cube in space, and the warehouse district was about a third of the face perpendicular to the one Catra and Adora were on. 

“Oh, this is so weird,” Catra said. 

“Yeah,” Adora said weakly, “It’s kind of making me dizzy.”

“Lightweight,” Catra teased. “Come on, we’ve got to get higher, and if you’re going to be dizzy anyway, we might as well have some fun!”

The Kilo Klub recommended itself as a good vantage point. They went up, grabbed a table and drinks, and gazed out at the cityscape on the walls beyond.

“Okay, let’s see if this works,” Catra said. Following Johnny’s instructions, she activated the little lens he’d planted in her eye. When she or Adora spotted a potential landing site, she look at it for a long moment, and it would provide the site’s dimensions. If they were big enough to hold Darla for loading their quarry, Catra winked and it recorded the site and sent it to Johnny’s PDD. They’d also synced it to Bow’s tracker pad - Johnny and Bow had gone full nerd about ‘wireless networks’ and ‘cross-formatting’ on Lucy during the trip.

“I think that’s all of them that we can use,” Catra said after a while, and looked at Adora, who was smiling. “What?”

“Oh, you just looked a little like Glimmer when she’s stressed out with your eye twitching like that.”

Catra snorted and wrapped her arm around Adora’s shoulders, “How about you, ogling those dancers when we came in?”

“I was just...shocked!” Adora said defensively.

“And it was hilarious,” Catra said.

“How are you so comfortable here?” Adora asked, noting how much more of her drink Catra had gone through.

“I think it’s because everything’s so wild. I don’t look out of place. Nobody does! Even on Etheria, how many people look like me? Also, I at least had a cocktail or two that time at Princess Prom.”

Adora grinned to see Catra so happy. “It is a little loud though.”

“We might as well make the most of it,” Catra said, reached round the back of her own head. Catra had gotten into the habit of wearing her thick hair in a pair of tight pigtails (though it wasn’t wise to call them that in her hearing) over her shoulders. But she deftly removed her hair ties and shook them out. Catra hadn’t gotten all the way back to the massive mane Adora had known her for most of their lives, but what she had flared out into a frizzy shoulder-length cloud framing her face dramatically. She got up and held out her hand, “Come on. Let’s dance!”

“I don’t know how to dance to this music,” Adora said, looking helplessly at one of the speakers thudding out the beat. 

“Me neither!” Catra said, laughing, “Who cares? Let’s do it anyway!”

By the time Dutch, D’Avin, Johnny and Bow rendezvoused with them, both Catra and Adora were dancing so energetically that it sort of made up for how bad they were at it. 

“Hey,” Dutch said loudly, businesslike but smiling all the same, “We think we’ve got it!”

“So we can start making plans?” Adora, breathless and flushed, looks suddenly childishly eager.

“Time to go back?” Catra said, still swaying to the music. 

“Hells no,” Dutch said, “We’ve just been crawling through dockside dives drinking moonshine that tastes like arse. We’ve earned the good shit.”

“Can we have it while making battle plans?” Adora says eagerly.

Dutch nods, “Business  _ and  _ partying, I like the way you think.”

“Catra?” Adora asks.

“You go ahead,” Catra said, “Arrow boy needs his moves upgraded.”

Adora nods, gives Catra a quick peck on the cheek and goes back to the table with Dutch. 

“Looks like you found all our options,” Dutch said, “Johnny says there are three that work for us.”

“We need one on open ground,” Adora opined, “If we go for a rooftop we might not be able to move the objective up to it unless we can be sure there’s a cargo elevator.”   
  
“Uh-uh,” Dutch said. “No elevators. They’re slow, noisy deathtraps.”

“I know, right?” Adora said, laughing. “I hate elevators!”

“It also means we can’t go in through the roof. Johnny’s working on a way to get us in the main door. If the handoff for this thing is soon, then hopefully they’ll have it loaded up and ready. All we have to do is get there first.”

“Any idea about the amount of opposition?” Adora said, grimacing as she slurred the word ‘opposition’ a little. Giving up, she recovered her glass and swallowed some of the hock. It smelled like something she’d have used to clean skimmer engines on work detail as a cadet.

“Look at you, all hard-drinking tactician,” Dutch said, grinning. “This smuggler bastard apparently goes everywhere with at least four big goons. No one mentioned them carrying guns so I’m guessing concealed pistols are the standard kit, but inside his warehouse they might pack something bigger.”

“So we go in hard and get out fast,” Adora said with an answering grin. 

“Pretty much,” Dutch said, “Tomorrow, we’ll send Lucy out on autopilot, she’ll transfer Melog over to Darla. Once we get in, the second we have eyes on the goods, we call Darla in and haul it aboard.” Dutch paused, then snickered, “Darla, Lucy. This sounds like planning the most badass tea party in history.”

Adora burst out laughing, “You’re right, it does.” She pulled herself together and said, “When it comes to moving the target, maybe D’Avin and I should handle that. I’d say we’re strong enough,” Adora flexed a bicep. “And you’ll want Bow covering us. He’s got an arrow for every scenario!”

“Sounds good,” Dutch said, nodding. “It even rhymes.” Her expression turned curious. “Gotta admit I didn’t expect you to put yourself up for the moving team. You strike me as more of a lead-from-the-front kind of girl.” 

Adora blinked, mind shifting gears, then said, “I am. Helped lead the rebellion on Etheria. But it’s where I can be most useful. Catra’s agility and Bow’s arrows will be important for covering our exit.” She sighed, her smile turning a little glassy.

“But you’d rather be the one to take all the shots while they run the other way, wouldn’t you? Speaking as the person you charged at swinging a sword.”

Adora froze for a moment, then sagged a little and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I would.”

“Yeah, it’s a common problem in Team Awesome Force,” Dutch nodded toward where Johnny and D’Avin were doing shots across the floor. Meanwhile, Bow and Catra were dancing like lunatics to the wild music. Catra’s tail moved in counterpoint to her hips, she punched the air and flung her messy hair around. 

“Same in the Best Friends Squad,” Adora said.

“What Alvis said,” Dutch asked carefully, “About your team, you and Catra especially, having experienced trauma and becoming heroes…”

“He’s good,” Adora agreed with a sigh. “Bow was fighting the Horde - the force that tried to subjugate Etheria - long before Catra and me?”

“Why weren’t you fighting them?”

“Because we were part of it. We were cadets, training to become commanders in the Horde army.”

Adora was worried Dutch would be outraged or disgusted. The buzz of the hock was making her careless with what she told her. But instead Dutch sighed and said, “Yeah, I can relate.”

Adora stared at Dutch, “You can?”

“Well, I wasn’t trained to be a general,” Dutch said. She snagged a vacant chair at the next table with her foot, dragged it over and propped her feet up on it. “But I was trained to be an assassin.”

Adora’s eyes stayed wide. “Whoa. Did you…”

“First kill when I was eight,” Dutch said immediately.

“I’m so sorry,” Adora said, “I was lucky, I found out what the Horde really was and got out before I was asked to do anything like that!”

“You?” Dutch said, frowning, “What about your kitty-cat out there?” She nodded at Catra, still dancing like a lunatic with Bow. Johnny had joined in as well.

Adora blushed at Dutch’s turn of phrase, “Catra and I grew up together in the Horde, but when I left...she didn’t understand yet. And I didn’t understand why she didn’t understand, didn’t understand what she was feeling, and we ended up fighting on opposite sides for a while.”

Dutch nodded, “I get that. Looks like you brought her round in the end.”

“Not before we nearly killed each other a couple times,” Adora said. “She suffered a lot to get where she is now.” She sighed, “I love her so much.”

“But you’re still not going to jump in front of the guns for her on this op?” Dutch’s question wasn’t accusatory at all. A kind smile played on her lips.

Adora sighed again, still looking out at Catra. “Because I love her, I have to learn to show her the respect she deserves, and not treat her like she’ll break if I’m not holding her all the time. She gets to be the hero too.”

“Sure does. She’s one badass bitch,” Dutch said, “And so are you.”

Once she got past the choice of language, Adora giggled, “I’ll drink to that.” Dutch raised her glass to Adora, who clinked hers to Dutch’s and finished the hock before her nerve failed.

“I mean,” Dutch went on, “If she hadn’t gotten between us and blocked me, you’d be in a coma right now.”

“Oh really?” Adora laughed, “I seem to remember slicing your gun in half and suplexing you!”

“That’s not how a suplex works. But that was still pretty impressive.” Dutch knocked back the last of her drink. Then she jumped, “What the hells?”

A little dark shape had shot under the table. Adora looked down to see Melog, in mouse form, running around her ankles. “I think I’m wanted on the dance floor,” Adora said.

“Sounds good,” Dutch agreed, “D’Avin’s sitting over there like a sad puppy and you’re kitty-cat’s gone far too long solo out there. So let’s get out there and show them how it’s done!”

“Damn straight,” Adora whooped and ran to rejoin Catra. Dutch started heading for D’Avin. By the time she got there she was looking thoughtful, and D’Avin asked if anything was wrong.

“Not at all,” Dutch said, pulling him to his feet, “You don’t remember what Adora did with that sword of hers, do you?”


	9. Operation Water Filter

“Okay, Operation Water Filter is a go,” Johnny said into the earbud transmitters the Best Friends Squad and Team Awesome Force were using.

“Operation Water Filter?” Catra drawled, “Even with this hangover I could come up with better names than that!”

“I told you not to have that last drink,” Bow teased.

“I was watching,” D’Avin said, “You would have had to intervene a  _ lot  _ earlier.”

“Okay, enough bickering or I’m turning his heist around,” Dutch interrupted. “Everyone in position?”

Everyone answered in the affirmative.

The target building was a big distribution warehouse. A guard post was on a balcony over the huge loading door, accessible only from inside the building. 

The guard was pacing up and down right up until he was hit in the back with a shock arrow. It brought him to his hands and knees but didn’t quite knock him out, but by the time he started getting muscle control back, Catra came vaulting over the balcony and knocked him cold. Then she grabbed the little electronic key from around his neck. She moved back over to the window she’d come in by in time for another arrow, this one trailing a cable, thudded into the windowsill and stuck there. The cable went taught, and when Bow came zip-lining across, she helped haul him in. 

Bow went to work without a word, taking the key from Catra and firing up his tracker pad.

“Okay, Johnny,” Bow said into his earpiece, “I’m running the combinations.”

“Copy that,” Johnny said, “Coming at you now.”

Catra looked over the edge of the console to check that Johnny, Dutch, D’Av and Adora were charging across the three-way intersection as she heard the sound of the loading door opening up. 

“Got it,” Catra said, “Let’s go.” The door through to the balcony wasn’t locked on this side, so they emerged directly onto a catwalk - har, har, Catra thought - overlooking the main floor. It reminded Catra of a much bigger version of the stockroom where she’d run afoul of the killjoys. Machinery, crates and other, less identifiable things stood in rows and on shelves down the length of the space in front of her. 

She and Bow circled around on the walkways over the rest of the group until they passed close enough to the tops of the shelves to jump off and climb down to join them. 

“Okay, so where’s the tech?” Catra asked.

“Working on that,” Johnny said, “Okay, Bow? These labels,” he pointed to the black-and-white squares on the crates, “Are identifying info. The software package on your tracker pad should be able to read them.”   
  
“Remember this thing’s supposed to be big,” D’Avin pointed out.

“Yeah and ready to move,” Dutch added. “Johnny, you’re with me. Bow, give Adora your tracker pad. Adora, you and D’Av will go together. Bow, you and Catra get up on the shelves and cover us.”

A quick rearrangement, and they split ways.

Bow and Catra got back up onto the shelves, and started leaping across them, sweeping the aisles for signs of opposition. 

“Something worrying you, Bow?” Catra asked.

“Do you think it’s possible the machine we want might be shipped in pieces?”

Catra considered this, her ears flattening in thought. “Maybe. We’d better scope out where the dollies and forklifts are. Good call.”

As they explored, they spotted a couple of such machines, but even if the machine was in pieces, its sum total would be huge, and none of these would do the job on their own. Maybe they could grab a bunch of them? Certainly they wanted to avoid making multiple trips…

Catra looked down and smiled. She’d arrived at one edge of the columns of shelves. A large side passage opened up below her, and a jumbo-sized forklift was rumbling down it with a huge, plastic-shrouded object that was just the right size.

“Hey,” Catra said, “Everybody get to the side hall, on the double.” And with that she leaped lightly off the shelves onto the top of the forklift’s cab. The driver heard the sound, because he stopped the forklift. His head poked up over the roof and he started, “What the hells are you?”

Catra, crouched easily on the cab roof, grinned, “A distraction.”

A stun shot came from Catra’s right and sent the man sprawling. As the other teams converged, Catra hopped off onto the floor and bowed, holding her arms out toward the forklift in a ‘presentation’ gesture. “Here’s your water filter tech.”

“Check it, Johnny,” Dutch said, but she was smirking when she said it. “I don’t want to accidentally steal a septic tank or something.”

“It’s the thing we want,” Johnny said triumphantly after scanning its tag. 

“D’Avin, you and I cover the rear,” Dutch said. “Johnny?”

Johnny climbed into the cab and started it up again, then handed his pistol to Adora. Adora looked at the gun, then at Catra and beamed.

They headed swiftly back toward the loading door. Just as they got within sight of it, they heard shouting behind them.

“Damn it,” Dutch snarled, “Johnny, floor it!”

Carrying the massive machine slowed them down, but the team had to jog to keep pace. A gunshot echoed behind them, and Dutch and D’Avin started blazing away with covering fire. 

Catra’s heart started to speed up, and not just from the exertion. And then she skidded to a halt with an angry hiss. Outside of the loading door, a spacecraft had just landed, and a squad of heavily-armed men were marching in the door.

“Oh,” Adora said, wide-eyed, “shit.”

D’Avin moved up to crouch in a firing position beside his brother in the forklift cab. Adora ducked behind a crate in the cavernous bottom shelf on the other side. Catra hopped up onto the next shelf up, to get a better vantage. “Hey, Bow, we’ve got a situation here,” she hissed, hoping Arrow Boy was somewhere nearby on the high ground. Dutch was covering their rear, where a half-dozen or so toughs in worker’s overalls came running. 

“Why thank you, Yala,” called a proud, feminine voice from the direction of the squad ahead of them. “I didn’t expect door-to-door service.”

Between the armoured soldiers in their path, a tall, dark-haired and richly dressed woman strode, another soldier by her side with a small case in hand. 

“Delle Seyah Kendry,” Dutch called back, her voice dripping disdain, “I’m guessing it’s the Company who bought out this machine?”

“Land Kendry stands to make a pretty profit from all those water bottles,” Kendry said. “Which reminds me, thank you for tying up a loose end for me.”   
  


She took the case from her minion, opening it, to reveal a set of two dozen tiny fragments of photonic crystals!

“Son of a bitch,” Johnny said, “You were supporting Moray?”

“Well, the Company wouldn’t appreciate Land Kendry getting a sole lock on clean water for Westerly. So a little off-the-books fundraising was called for. Now, are you going to hand over my property? Your friends do seem to be surrounded.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Dutch said, “I’ve got an arrow up my sleeve.”

An arrow arced overhead, ricocheted off a light fixture and burst in the midst of the warehouse toughs. Smoke billowed out. 

“Back!” Catra shouted, then leaped into the smoke, her claws slashing the hamstrings of one of the toughs as she passed. She hit the ground, rolled, and sprang up again and ran as Johnny threw the forklift in hard reverse. Adora was hanging off the side of the forklift cab firing down toward the advancing soldiers. But they were slowed down by having to cover their mistress.

Adora hung back, shooting with one hand and deflecting shots with her sword in the other, to protect a bewildered Johnny and their precious cargo as they backed away. Catra could see the dumbfounded look on Johnny’s face as he saw her doing this, and had a brief spell of what Glimmer called a ‘proud girlfriend moment.’

Once they crossed the junction with the side hall, Bow loosed an arrow that sprayed sticky glue all over the floor, slowing the troopers’ advance as they picked their way across it. They were joined by more of the local heavies, presumably the smuggler’s goons. 

“That’ll hold them for a while,” D’Avin said, “But,” he jerked is head toward the side path through the shelves on their right, “Our flank’s wide open and our back’s to the wall.”

“Keep wearing them down,” Bow said, “That gunk dries out in a minute or two, then we can drive…”

One of the warehouse toughts stepped nimbly out through the gluey minefield and raised, not a gun, but a remote control. Four short, sharp blasts went off right in the midst of the team defending the forklift. Catra yowled and jumped up onto the upper level of the shelves, under where Bow was standing. Still covering them, Adora said, “What was that?”

“Ah, shit-tits,” snarled Dutch, “They must have booby-trapped the forklift! The tires are blown! Johnny, get out of there!”

Catra looked up to where the bad guys were slowly advancing. Over her shoulder, the forklift was almost literally backed into a corner.

“Any ideas?” Adora said, sounding out of breath.

“Yeah, get under cover before you get shot,” D’Avin said, giving Adora supporting fire.

“Is there anywhere on the other side of this wall where Darla can come in?” Adora asked, giving ground.

“That’s the plan,” Johnny said, running to the back wall and sticking something to it, “Give me thirty seconds and we’ll have a door.”

“Shit,” Dutch said, “we can get out, but I don’t think we can take the hardware.”

“We have to,” Bow objected, backing away down the shelf row, “People are counting on it!”

“Oh, yes we can bring it,” Catra said. “Hey, Adora?”

For an instant, hers and Adora’s eyes locked, Catra looking down from the shelf, Adora’s eyes blazing back up at her. Then she grinned. “Bow, give Darla the new landing site!”

“What the hells are you doing?” D’Avin demanded as Adora sauntered back into the vanguard, hefting her sword over her head.

By way of explanation, Adora shouted, “For the Honour of Grayskull!”

The blast of Johnny’s charges blowing a hole in the wall was drowned out by the thunderclap that rang from the sword. Adora rose off her feet, radiating shimmering light. Exclamations of alarm came from both the goons ahead of them and the killjoys. 

When the light cleared, the figure standing there wasn’t Adora - not entirely. Her clothes had turned into a pure white body glove highlighted with golden armour. Her hair had gone from her short, severe ponytail to a nearly-hip-length one. A winged tiara was on her brow and a red-lined cape-skirt fluttered around her hips. Oh, and she’d also grown to about eight feet tall! 

“What the hells?” Dutch breathed, staring round the crate she was using for cover. 

“Okay,” D’Avin said, “Who the hells are you people?”

“I,” Adora said, stepping back to stand alongside the huge, shrouded machine, “am She-Ra! Catch, Johnny,” she added, tossing the younger Jaqobis brother’s gun back to him. “Cover me.”

Without further ado, she stooped, grabbed the edge of the machine where it overhung the forklift, and with a growl of effort titled it up until she could get her whole forearm under it, then lifted it up onto her shoulder like it was a bundle of firewood! 

Dutch, crouched in cover behind Adora - She-Ra - watched with slack-jawed astonishment. But Delle Seyah’s goons were advancing again, and she wasn’t sure that even those glowing, magnificent, invincible muscles - concentrate, Yala! she told herself - were bulletproof.

She-Ra, somehow settling the massive machine on her shoulder, began to retreat through the breach Johnny had just blown in the wall. 

“Time to go?” Bow asked aloud.

“Just about,” Dutch said. “Just…” Before she could finish, a shot caught her in the knee and she rolled out of cover.

“Dutch!” D’Avin and Johnny, holding either side of the breach while She-Ra hauled the water filter machine through, both tried to move to Dutch’s aid, but the flurry of disciplined fire from Delle Seyah’s goons kept them pinned down.

“Hey, Bow,” Catra said, her mind racing, “You got one of those goo arrows? The snotty ones?”

“They’re called…” Bow began.

_ “Do you have one?” _

“Yeah!”

“Then hit that Delle Seyah woman with it!”

“But she’s not the one shooting....”   
  
“Just do it! Trust me!” Catra added, containing her frustration.

A second later, the arrow flew, and Delle Seyah, standing all regal and high-and-mighty - a little like Horde Prime, she thought, was suddenly struck and immediately engulfed in a green, chunky muck. The look of revolted horror on her face was so melodramatic Catra was laughing by the time she started moving. 

Then she was amongst the guards, many of whom had stopped shooting to fuss over their mistress, and didn’t see her coming until it was too late. Her claws shredded the plating of their body armour, and every time one of them managed to train a gun on her or pull a knife, she dodged and weaved and got inside their reach for a knockdown blow. 

Finally, she got to Delle Seyah, stuck in place in a lumpy cone of gunk. “You should see your face,” Catra snickered as she took the case of photonic crystals from her. 

“You should see your ribs,” Delle Seyah snarled.

That was when the hot, wet pain started to register. Catra glanced down to see a big sheet of blood running down from a long cut in her shirt. One of the knife-wielders must have gotten one in on her. 

“Shit,” Catra muttered.

“I see Yala’s keeping a pet now,” Delle Seyah said.

Catra snorted. “Whatever. Bye.” Not her best comeback, but there just wasn’t time.

She started sprinting back to the breach, but she must have lacerated muscles; ever step send pain up her side and drove the breath out of her. A couple of the warehouse toughs tried to waylay her, but they were both shot down. Looking ahead, Dutch was sitting up, gun in hand, eyes on fire. 

“Later, Seyah,” Dutch shouted as Catra helped her to her feet and D’Avin and Bow let fly a fresh supply of cover fire.

Catra gasped in pain, “Oh, don’t make me laugh, Dutch.”

“Sorry.”

“I’d threaten to send her our laundry bill,” Catra rasped, “But I think she’ll go broke getting that stuff Bow makes out.”


	10. Making Good

Johnny walked anxious circles around the water reclamation machine, checking that it hadn’t been damaged in the firefight. In fact, it had only taken two superficial hits.

“Woo!” He cheered, “I am looking at a beautiful, intact piece of tech on an invisible alien spaceship with a giant superwoman and this is the best day!”

Then he looked over - and up - and She-Ra, whose face was wrung with anxiety. “We have to go back for Catra and the others!”

Johnny was exhausted, and could hear them shouting as they retreated, but he knew better than to argue with superwomen. So he grabbed his gun and followed She-Ra back down the ramp.

Only to run right into Catra and Dutch, limping along in each other’s arms, both laughing breathlessly. D’Avin and Bow were coming up behind them, firing back into the breach.

“Catra!” She-Ra swept down on Catra while Johnny took Dutch’s weight and helped her aboard. She-Ra swept Catra up in her arms and carried her bridal-style back aboard Darla.

“Okay Darla,” Bow cried, “We’re on, let’s get out of here!”

“Acknowledged,” said Darla’s AI voice. The ramp slammed shut and the deck wobbled a bit as the ship took off.

Melog came loping down into the loading bay over to Catra, who was sitting propped up against the bay wall next to Dutch.

“Darla,” Johnny said, “Link up with Lucy, tell her to show you the way to Leith.” He knelt by Dutch first, but she shook her head.

“Catra’s bleeding,” she said harshly, “Patch her up until we can get to the Scarback infirmary.”

“It’s okay,” She-Ra said, a note of commanding in her voice. She knelt in front of the two wounded women. She reached out and laid a hand on each of them, and all three of them suddenly glowed golden.

D’Avin started forward protectively, but Bow stopped him, “No, it’s good. I’ve seen this before.”

When the light faded, She-Ra was gone, and Adora had returned to normal. Dutch gingerly stood up, flexing her knee, which was now completely healed, if a little stiff.

Catra jumped up, massaging her side. She was pleased to note that her burns had disappeared as well. “I’d better get changed,” she said, petting Melog with her other hand. 

“Catra,” Adora said, “What did you do back there?”

Catra shrugged, flicking her ears, “Kicked the asses of Delle Bitch-a and her goons, covered your retreat and grabbed her photonic crystals!”

“Our fuel!” Bow crowed. “Nice one!”

“It’s perfect,” Dutch said, grinning.

“Perfect?” D’Avin asked anxiously. “Delle Seyah knows it was us that took the filtration system, what will the Company do if it turns up on Westerly?”

“Delle Seyah said she was doing this to get an edge on the rest of her Company,” Catra said, sauntering over to Adora. “So if she actually admitted to knowing anything, wouldn’t that blow her cover? And if she thinks you have the crystals, it gives you leverage doesn’t it?”

Adora took this in, wide eyed, and put an arm around Catra and kissed her on the crown of her head, “You’re a genius, Catra. A badass genius!”

“Careful,” Catra said, wincing, “Still a little tender.”

“Sorry, sorry!” 

“Besides,” Johnny said smugly, “Who’s going to believe we stole away on an invisible spaceship?”

They all laughed, then Adora said, “Okay, anyone else super hungry right now?”

“Hells yeah,” Dutch said. “Got anything?”

“I think we can throw something together,” Adora said.

“So,” Johnny said, turning to Bow, “Is this ship, like, made of crystals of some kind?”   
  


“Oh, yeah,” Bow said, “Come on, let me show you, while I load some of these crystals into the engine…”

“Johnny?” said Lucy’s voice over the intercom.

“Hey, Lucy,” Johnny said happily, “You in range already?”

“I am. Are you all safe?”

“Always, Lucy girl.”

“Darla,” said Lucy, “Thank you for looking after my people.”

“You are welcome, Lucy,” Darla replied.


	11. The Roots Grew

“Arriving at Westerly.”

The Royale bar in Old Town was the best party the Best Friends Squad had seen for a while. Celebrating miners and their families were sitting at tables, at the bar, or dancing between them. Even some of the Scarbacks were there. Catra, Adora and Bow sat at a long table off to the side with the killjoys enjoying a slap-up dinner. 

“Gotta say,” Dutch was saying over a beer, “You guys can ride shotgun with us any time!”

“These young things?” Pree, the bartender said, coming over to freshen their drinks, “You’d overwhelm the enemy with sheer cuteness.” 

“I’m not cute!” Catra snapped.

“It’s true, Pree. They’re too badass to be cute,” D’Avin said, laughing.

“Badass and beautiful go together, darling,” Pree said, “Aren’t I living proof of that?” He added, winking at  _ Bow _ , whose face flushed. 

“Also, Adora here can turn into an eight-foot-tall Amazon with healing powers,” Johnny added drunkenly.

“Okay,” Pree said, “You are cut off for the night, blue-eyes.”

As they all laughed over Pree’s bewilderment, Catra, out of the corner of her eye, spotted Alvis at the bar.

As the night wore on, it was getting on for time to go. As they started heading for the door, Catra saw Alvis turning away down the street, the opposite way from the docks, and Catra said, “Hey Adora? Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

Adora looked quizzical, but she nodded, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and went to catch up with the killjoys.

Catra caught up with Alvis in a little side street. “You got a minute, um, Uncle?” He turned and smiled amiably. 

“For someone who just saved the people of Westerly from further degradation? Always.”

“I remember you saying confessions were part of your job?”

“It’s another way of taking other’s pain,” Alvis agreed, nodding.

“I…” Catra knew she was withdrawing, running her hand up and down her other arm, avoiding eye contact. She took a breath and went on, “It’s not always easy for me to open up to my friends. I put them through a lot in the old days. I love Adora a lot, and even though I know she loves me, I keep asking myself if I’m actually good enough for her. Like, what if I’m never strong enough to take care of her like she takes care of me? Or if all of her friends are only good to me because I’m her broken girlfriend, not because I actually matter to them on my own? And I wanted to say thanks. It meant a lot for someone who didn’t know about all that to see me as someone who could be a hero too, or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” Alvis said, laughing. Catra felt Melog quiver happily in her pocket, where he’d gone mouse-shaped again. “You’re right, Catra, I don’t know your history. But I can tell you suffered, and now you want to take the suffering of the people you care about. That’s the way of heroes. Dutch, Johnny and D’Avin are like that. It’s the Scarback way too.”

“Yeah, and Adora’s,” Catra said, laughing shyly, “I don’t think we can get with the self-inflicted wounds thing, though.”

“Well, I’d be a lousy priest if I didn’t proselytize a little,” he reached into his robes and withdrew a small booklet, “Here. Introduction to Scarback philosophy. Only we monks are meant to do the blood stuff, don’t worry. But maybe it’ll help you find a path to do for the people you care about?”

Catra took the pamphlet politely. Alvis went on, “And for what it’s worth, you  _ are  _ a hero, Catra, and you have every reason for the people around you to raise you up.” Alvis shrugged his cape aside, exposing his bare shoulder. “You saved Dutch, did for your crew and helped them get us the means to relieve Westerly’s burdens. Frankly, restocking your ship’s kitchen seems incomplete. If you want, I’d be honoured to repay you with a blessing.”

“Uh, Bow and Adora might be back at the ship,” Catra began, but Alvis shook his head.

“Not your team, just you.”

Catra froze, heart suddenly racing, but nodded, from curiosity as much as anything.

Alvis reached into his pocket in his robes and his hand came out with a sort of metal claw over his middle finger. As he used it to make a shallow cut on his shoulder, he said, “And the Roots grew. One Mother tree that unites us all.” He dabbed some of the blood onto his index finger, “And when we rise, Her branches hold us. And when we tire, Her trunk shelters us. And when we die, Her roots will carry us home.”

Alvis reached for Catra’s face, and she understood she was to close her eyes. She felt overcome in a way she’d never felt before. Like the love and support she still sometimes didn’t quite believe was real from people around her was summed up in Alvis’ words. Gently, Alvis smeared a trace of his blood over her eyelids.

“My pain, your redemption. My suffering, your salvation.”

Catra opened her eyes with a shaky breath. 

“Praise the trees,” Alvis finished.

“Praise the trees,” Catra agreed softly. “Thanks. I guess I’d better go. Home.”

“Hope to see you again sometime,” Alvis said, putting his hood up, rearranging his cape, and heading off into Old Town.


	12. Epilogue

It felt sort of impolite, but Catra gave her face a good scrub when she got back. Spiritual fulfillment was all very well, but so was hygiene.

Once again, Catra and Adora were getting ready for bed.

“We’ll have some stories to tell back in Bright Moon, huh?” Catra said, coming back from the bathroom.

“I’ll say,” Adora agreed. “I hope I don’t swear in front of the other princesses though. Hey Catra?”

“Yeah?”

“You were amazing at Utopia. You came up with a plan really fast and it was super elegant!”

Catra hated that her ears perked up and her tail flirted involuntarily at the praise. “Well, you could have punched through them all, I just happened to see a path of least resistance this time.” She came over to sit on the bed with Adora, but as she sat, she let out an involuntary gasp of pain. Melog looked up briefly from the bottom of the bed.

“What’s wrong?” Adora exclaimed.

“Oh, nothing,” Catra said, “Just sore. I think that knife wound was deeper than I thought.”

“Are you okay?” Adora said, fussing over Catra suddenly, “Oh, I’m such an idiot! I didn’t heal you all the way…”

“No, Adora,” Catra said with a long-suffering smile, “You did. It’s just settling, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” Adora said. She shot an anxious glance at Melog, but they’d settled down again. “I wish you hadn’t had to get hurt.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see what it was like for a change,” Catra said teasingly. Sobering she put her arms around Adora. “It’s really okay. It was my choice, and I gave you the space to do what we needed, so we could win the day for the good guys. Just like you usually do. So, just this once, Adora? _My_ pain, _your_ redemption.”

Adora’s mighty arms went round Catra and Catra purred. “I love you Catra.”

“I love you too, Adora.”


End file.
